Twenty-Six
Comfort
I hadn’t heard from Devin pretty much all day. My first day back at work sucked and I’d spent the day excited to see him. He was supposed to come over, but he never did. I called him and texted, but I heard nothing.
At one point, Jenny called and asked if I had heard from him. I could tell by her voice that something was wrong, but when I asked she said nothing. That of course made me worry more.
As much as I hated it, the idea of him and another woman popped into my head. He was gorgeous and I knew women found him attractive. It would hurt to find out he was seeing someone else.
I sat up in bed watching TV with my phone in hand. I kept almost dozing off and jumping, and then finally, at some point, I fell asleep.
A loud pounding on the door woke me. I waited for a bit hoping that Shannon would get it, but then I remembered she wasn’t home. I peeled the comforter back and climbed out of bed. Then I remembered I was worried about Devin and ran to the door.
Once I got to the door, I checked the peep hole and saw his face. Relief filled me and I suddenly felt a rush of happiness. I opened the door with a smile on my face that soon melted when I saw his messy appearance.
The doorframe held him up as he leaned all of his weight against it. Expressionless, bloodshot eyes stared back at me as he lifted his hand and ran it roughly down his unshaved face. His hair was disheveled and there was blood on the front of his shirt. Panic rose up as I took him in. I rushed to him and ran my fingers down his body, as I checked for injuries.
“You’re bleeding! Oh my God, Devin! What happened? Are you OK?” I went on and on as I checked him over.
“It’s not my blood,” he slurred.
I took a better look at his gorgeous face. His unfocused eyes attempted to meet mine and it was then that the smell of liquor reached my nose.
“You’re drunk?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He attempted to move toward me and almost fell over.
I wrapped my arms around him and helped him into my apartment. Once we made it to the couch I let him collapse onto the cushion before I went straight to work on his clothes. I removed his blood-stained shirt first and threw it to the side. Quickly, I checked him over again just to be sure that he wasn’t injured somewhere. His skin felt cold and clammy against my fingertips.
His knuckles were busted open, so I went to the bathroom and got a wet towel and the first aid kit. I cleaned his fingers then wrapped them up.
I felt fingers in my hair and looked up to see a very drunk Devin starting back at me.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered as his heavy head fell against the back of my couch again.
Shaking my head, I dropped onto my knees on the floor and removed his boots.
Once I was done getting Devin out of his shoes, I went to the hallway closet and pulled out a blanket for him. When I got back to the couch, he was standing there looking back at me in all his tattooed, muscled glory. He was still leaning a bit to the side when his eyes locked on mine.
“Come here,” he rasped.
He looked as if he was about to crumble and I couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or if something was really breaking him down.
“Are you OK, baby?” I asked.
He closed his eyes and sighed. “I love it when you call me baby.”
I went to him and he groaned as I softly ran my hands up his chest and put my arms around his neck. On my tiptoes, I softly kissed the line of his neck and his chin.
“Tell me what happened, Devin.”
When he finally opened his eyes, he looked at me differently. The calm and collected Devin was gone and an anxiety-ridden shell of a man stood before me. His shoulders felt tense beneath my fingers and his eyes held a crazed demeanor.
“I need you, Lilly.” He captured my face softly in his hands as he slurred the words.
“Please tell me what happened?”
“Make it go away, baby,” he whispered as he leaned in and started to kiss me.
I let him as I melted against his body. He collapsed against the couch once more, but this time he took me with him. Not once did he break our kiss, and soon, I felt his velvet tongue against mine. I kissed him back and let my fingers play in the hair at the back of his neck.
He broke the kiss and started down the side of my neck.
“I need you, Lilly,” he repeated against my skin.
“I’m here.” I bit at my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning.
“Please, just make it all go away,” he drunkenly begged.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but tell me what to do to make it better. I want to make it better, Devin.” I stopped him and stared into his eyes as I waited for his response.
“Don’t leave me,” he said desperately.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it better.” I wanted to cry.
He looked so hurt and afraid. It was strange to see such a strong, confident man so lost and unsure.
He flipped me onto my back on the couch and crawled on top of me. His movements were less calculated—slower than usual.
“I want you. I need to be inside you,” he said aggressively.
His hands were clumsy as he leaned back and started to remove my flannel pants. He growled in appreciation when he saw that I wasn’t wearing any panties. I said nothing as he angrily pulled at my shirt to get it off of me.
“I want to see your skin. I need you,” he kept repeating.
Leaning up, I quickly pulled my camisole over my head. Instead of his usual slow sexual way, he fell on top of me again and quickly entered me. It caught me so off guard that I gasped. My body easily accepted him, so there was no pain, but it was so unlike Devin that for a brief minute I felt fear.
Once I looked up into his face my fear melted away and all I wanted to do was make whatever was hurting him go away. He looked down at me and although there were no tears on his cheeks, he looked like he was about to cry. He buried his face in my neck so that I couldn’t see his face anymore.
Something was definitely wrong. I held on to him and my heart broke as he rocked against me over and over again. The couch creaked with his every thrust and the sound of our bodies smacking echoed throughout the room.
“I only want to feel you, baby, nothing else, just you,” he whispered into my hair.
His movement became jerky as he sped up. He thrust into me over and over again, harder each time. His hot breath pounded against the side of my neck. I said nothing as he found comfort in my body. I just held him close to me and every now and again, I kissed the side of his neck.
I felt his body tense up as he growled out his release and slammed into me one final time. His full body weight pressed against me when his arms went weak and he dropped onto me completely.
When he finally removed his face from my neck and looked down at me I could see the realization in his eyes of what had just occurred. I never said no, but he never really asked. Quickly, I cupped his cheeks with my hands and kissed him softly.
“Did I hurt you? I never want to hurt you,” he said with a thick slur.
“It’s OK, I’m OK,” I whispered.
He said nothing. He just stared back at me like he was afraid I’d push him away and run for my life. Then his expression changed, and tears filled his eyes. I’d never seen a grown man cry in my life and my heart crushed inside my chest as he buried his face in my neck once more and wept loudly.
“I’m going to lose you. I am. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m going to lose you.” He drunkenly cried.